


The King in the Mountain (An Undertale Poem)

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Asgore Dreemurr Needs a Hug, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24217378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tea has always been Asgore's way of preserving his memories. But there are some pieces of the past he would rather forget.
Relationships: Asgore Dreemurr/Toriel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	The King in the Mountain (An Undertale Poem)

**Author's Note:**

> “Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on Earth.” -Fyodor Dostoevsky

The sunlight was bright and the cathedral all white and Asgore smiled at his bride in quiet delight 

The priest harangued, the wedding bells rang, all the townspeople happily sang, 

He’d finally asked

Married at last

Hail the Kingdom’s new age! 

(Hail the King’s lovely new sage!) 

Cake was sliced and dishes were diced and colorful drinks were carefully iced 

A server hobbled towards the newlywed pair, a porcelain plate held above his hair

“Pardon me, your Majesties, but if you’re free, would you care for a cup of tea?” 

Asgore held his queen and took in the scene, this wasn’t a beverage he’d previously seen 

“Well, golly, sure! But from what was this procured? I’ve never had a drink with this pinkish allure” 

“Carnation tea, from the flower, it’s sweetness is perfect for this celebratory hour!” 

Asgore raised the cup to his lips, sitting back and enjoying a sip 

It was rich and deep, incredibly sweet, reminding him of when Toriel he’d first meet 

Of the crown on her head, of the fact they were wed, of the kingdom they together now lead

Asgore’s SOUL stuttered and smiled

He could definitely enjoy this for a while

»»————- ♔ ————-««

The marsh was dark, twittering with larks, and the regiment sat on rotting bark 

It smelled like war, of demoralized corps, of monsters dusting on moss floors 

The grief of being commander-in-chief weighed on him like a tremendous massif 

But he had to stay strong

The humans were wrong 

Monsters would win, no matter how long

It would be before monsterkind would sing their victory song

A young bunny squire snarled at the mire and poked the fire with noticeable ire, 

“Your Majesty, do we have a chance? To win back our home by mace and lance?” 

The atmosphere hushed. Mutters were crushed as to his feet the King rushed

“My sons, listen well. Do not let think we will fail. Watch and see, monsterkind will prevail!” 

The soldiers were quiet, then burst into cheers! Amazing how quickly words could quell fear 

Someone raised a hand in the commotion, waving the King over with violent motions 

“What can I help you with, young one? I assure you, this war will soon be won” 

“Oh, my Lord, this is not about me. I wanted to thank you, your Majesty, with some lemongrass tea” 

The king smiled and nodded and picked up a cup, expressing his thanks before drinking it up

It was strong and brash, through his taste buds it slashed, reminding him of battlefield ash

Of his friends he cherished, lives that had perished, of humans bloodthirsty and garish 

A feeling rose within him, violent and grim, a vow to avenge those lost in the din

Asgore’s SOUL hardened and smiled 

This kind of dark energy he would need for future trials

»»————- ♔ ————-««

Asgore was wrong. The humans had won. And monsterkind was banished away from the sun

Shamefaced and cheated, his kingdom retreated, their hopes and dreams broken, shattered, defeated

His people were dying

These times were too trying

The King had no choice but to keep lying

So there was a meeting today, where the King would smile and be gay and tell monsters not to give way 

He had a speech ready, written already. It was confusing and messy, and his thoughts were unsteady 

His eyes wandered across the room, heavy with gloom, staring at the cavern’s dark womb

They settled on distant view of the city, which was purple and blue and really quite pretty

He sighed. So many had died, yet his people were still determined to make the best of their lives

Where was  _ his _ will to fight? To do what’s right? To guide his people to the light? 

“Gorey, my dear, is there something you fear? That look on your face is really quite queer” 

Asgore startled then groaned then shook his head. He couldn’t tell Toriel about his mounting dread

“Well my love, if you’re free, I wanted you to try some lavender tea” 

A porcelain cup was placed in his hand, the liquid a shade of violet bombastic and grand

He held the handle with an ungodly grip, nearly singed his bottom lip, and took a quiet, uneasy sip

The taste was quaint, like a memory faint, the dying wisdom of a kindly saint 

He thought of his crown, the kingdom he’d lead now reduced to a town, the orphans deformed with permanent frowns

They needed him. They needed light in a time so dim

Asgore’s SOUL sighed then smiled

He would guide his people through exile 

»»————- ♔ ————-««

The house was messy and quiet and warm, a far cry from its orderly form

Plushies were scattered around, crayons by the fireplace browned, and from the childrens’ room came a soft whistling sound

Both of them were fast asleep, burrowed under linen heaps and sunken into slumber deep

Asgore closed their bedroom door and winced when the hinges rustily roared, ducking his head back in to make sure the two still snored

Still out, that was good. If either awoke, they would have understood, but the small joys of childhood he wouldn’t disturb if he could

The King tip-toed down the hall, thinking to make a drink before before to bed he crawled

But what would it be tonight? Mint tea? No, too much of a bite. Maybe lemon or berry? No, those were just a bit too light

The water boiled and bubbles roiled and the King’s mind over the subject broiled 

He wanted something soft and gentle, something elemental, cheerful and fragmental 

A jasmine blossom! Oh, that would be awesome! 

Tired, calloused hands prepared the drink, puffy eyes quickly blinked him back from the brink of sleep 

At last, finished. He took a sip and hummed as his exhaustion diminished 

Fresh, clean, honest, sincere -- how could a cup of tea have a taste so wonderfully queer? 

Happy thoughts of the day through his mind played

The way Asriel had snorted when the human had reported that Mom’s sock drawer remained woefully unsorted 

And of how the two sat in the garden trying to knit, then eventually quit because the fiber threads became so full of grit 

So precious, so pure. They were the greatest blessing of his life, to be sure. 

Asgore’s SOUL softened and smiled

Those two little darlings had him completely beguiled 

»»————- ♔ ————-««

New Home was quiet, morose, and black. Sorrow seeped from stone cracks and weighed on every back

White flowers were tossed from a basket, proceeding the path of a dust jar and casket

They were small. So terribly small. This was the sort of thing that shouldn’t happen at all 

The crowd raised up a hymn, one slow and grim, and in every monster's eyes a fountain of tears brimmed

Except one. One who’s eyes burned with the fury of the sun

The King stood on the balcony and stared down at the scene. A feeling built in him, dark, hard, and obscene

“Asgore, look at me dear. My love, please, look at me here!” 

He did not. His mind was caught in knots of the revenge he sought

Toriel tried again with her voice lower. Asgore turned to her but didn’t stifle his glower

“You could not have stopped this unexpected blow. Please, whatever you are thinking, do not stoop that low” 

The King snorted and turned back to the funeral procession. The hatred in his heart burned and freshened

“Asgore. They are gone. We have to bear on” 

“Woman, where is your grief? For the sake of peace will you your son bequeath?” 

Toriel stared aghast, then quietly laughed

“I see what the pain has done to you. Please, don’t push me away too” 

Asgore turned, cape swishing on the floor, and made his way to the balcony door

Toriel shouted and then came after, but he made it to the house much faster

His eyes searched for something to shatter, to bruise his knuckles, make him madder, and settled on a tea set sitting on a platter

He lunged for it but felt a tug on his nape, the feel of someone pulling on his cape

“Gorey--” 

“Let me go, Toriel, just let me grieve! The things I am feeling you  _ cannot _ perceive!” 

“I will, just in a bit, really. But first, try some tea of lily” 

The Queen brought a teacup over to him, holding up with a visage grim. The King stared at it with eyes dark and dim 

“Toriel, can’t you see? This is not the time for tea” 

“Do not be a fool. A broken king cannot rule. Heal yourself, sit on that stool, and think of something other than plans so cruel” 

With a huff, he took the cup, and downed the stuff with a mumble gruff 

It was refreshing and bracing, forward-facing, bringing back thoughts he’d been outpacing 

Of a boy who’s laughter he would never hear again, of a prince who never was to reign 

Of a Kingdom with no hopes or dreams, gradually unraveling at the seams

Asgore’s SOUL darkened and smiled

A plan was compiled, thoughts of peace reviled

»»————- ♔ ————-««

The house was still. Echoes of memories were shrill. Through the hallways blew a chill. 

Everything was orderly, deep-cleaned quarterly, but it somehow all felt like forgery 

Wisps of laughter sparkled in the hall, pictures of his wife no longer hung on the walls

Asgore blinked quickly, he should have known. This is what happened when you lived alone. 

The King snorted and shook the gloom away. It was Gyftmas day, no time to be grey, 

For he had an important part to play!

Pulling on the Santa costume, he quietly fumed when he saw how his midsection bloomed 

That was new. Hoho! It made the image look a little more true. 

Decked out in holiday charm, the King slung the gift sack under his arm 

He was about to leave when his eyes conceived a platter of tea sitting next to a sieve 

Where had it come from? Who put it there? Maybe one of the house servants had answered his prayer?

He walked over to get a closer look, smiling when he saw a note from the cook

“This Golden Flower tea is for you, your Majesty. It will put you at ease and fill you with glee ” 

The King smiled and on a chair settled, watching the water push up the petals

Golden Flowers were unmatched in color and smell, the way they shone was really quite swell 

How hadn’t he before thought of this? He wondered as he brought the cup to his lips 

It tasted like…

water 

and 

tears 

and

all the things

he knew he feared

he crumpled on the floor 

let out a roar 

thought of the things from which he’d been torn

Three people he would never speak to again, to circumstances and sorrow slain

Two children lying dead under his throne, their cheeks pressed to the floor’s cold stone

One crying for forgiveness as he turned to dust, wailing as he disappeared in a gust 

The other silent, pale and cold. A human child who would never grow old 

A war he declared that would never be won, a hope for the sun that never would come

Asgore’s SOUL trembled and cracked. 

This world had nothing left but the feeling of lack. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first serious poem I've ever written, and my respect for poets on this site and others has grown tremendously. It's hard! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. Please let me know what you think, all comments are replied to and every kudos means so much to me. 
> 
> (For the three people wondering when the next "Mephibosheth" update will be, it'll either come out Tuesday morning or Wednesday night. I hope this can tide you over until then!)


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